


Heart Rate (through the roof)

by SlimeQueen



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Making Out, Vietnamese Translation Available, doyoung is whipped, jungwoo is sweet, mark is amused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 03:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13650885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimeQueen/pseuds/SlimeQueen
Summary: Doyoung prides himself in his ability to stay calm no matter what. However, all it takes is one glance from Kim Fucking Jungwoo, King of soft voices and probably Doyoung’s heart, to turn him into a mess.





	Heart Rate (through the roof)

**Author's Note:**

> don't ask me what this is lmao i've been thinking about Doyoung kissing Jungwoo for 2 whole days pls euthanize me  
> This oneshot is also available in Vietnamese [here](https://linhlinhyunhyun.wordpress.com/2018/03/03/translated-oneshot-nct-jungdo-heart-rate-through-the-roof/)

Doyoung says, “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

Mark twists his face up, presses a hand to Doyoung’s chest (he flinches back, but Mark’s palm chases him, pressing flat over his heart) and he says, “I don’t think so, hyung.”

Doyoung sits back in his flimsy metal seat and thinks for a minute. His heart’s beating unevenly, a warm flush over his cheeks. Doyoung’s never felt anything quite like this before. “No,” he disagrees, “I think I’m definitely having heart palpitations. Mark, if I die, please give me a proper burial.”

Mark just rolls his eyes and goes back to scrolling through his phone, completely disregarding Doyoung’s crisis.

Doyoung presses a hand to his own chest, still sure that there’s something surely wrong with him.

At that moment, Jungwoo chooses to return to the room, and Doyoung’s heartrate leaps through the fucking roof. “Oh my god,” he groans, “I’m going to die, you guys.”

Jungwoo scrunches his eyebrows up in a way that makes Doyoung sure he’s going to burst into flames at any second and asks, “What’s wrong?”

Doyoung opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a squeak that would put Chenle to shame. God, if he doesn’t die now, he’s going to kill himself, he’s so embarrassed.

Jungwoo leans in closer, says in his pretty soft voice, “Hyung, you’re all red. Are you okay?”

Mark is staring determinedly at his phone and decidedly _not_ at the trainwreck unfolding before him, and Doyoung would give anything to just turn into a pile of ash at that moment and be blown away by the wind. Jungwoo’s face is way too close, his eyelashes fluttering as he takes in Doyoung’s (probably ridiculous) expression.

“Uh,” Doyoung manages to say very eloquently, and nods several times.

Jungwoo retreats, and Doyoung clutches his chest again, wondering why the fuck he’s not just dead yet.

“I think hyung’s in _love_ ,” Mark singsongs from his seat, a shit eating grin on his face. It takes all of Doyoung’s self-control to keep from lunging across the room and wringing Mark’s neck.

“In _love_?” Jungwoo asks, eyebrows drawing up in surprise. It hurts even looking at him.

Doyoung presses a hand over his eyes to cover them, says, “I’m _not_!” and proceeds to get up and leave the room. Only, his hand is still over his eyes and he nearly trips over a stray piece of furniture in the process, causing Mark to laugh at his expense, and Jungwoo to make a tiny concerned noise.

Once he’s outside the room, Doyoung all but runs to the bathroom, furiously telling himself to calm the fuck down, because his heartrate is still beating in an uneven rhythm, the image of Jungwoo’s concerned face burned into his eyelids.

Doyoung’s self-pride lies in his ability to stay calm no matter what, and his knack for being able to talk himself through situations that aren’t ideal. He’s not meant to be this stuttering disaster, tripping over his words and stumbling his way through sentences.

But Jungwoo. All it takes is one glance from Kim Fucking Jungwoo, King of soft voices and probably Doyoung’s heart, to turn him into a mess.

Doyoung’s been so busy with schedules and just generally…being an idol, that it had nearly escaped his mind that, _oh yeah_ , he’s kind of madly infatuated with Jungwoo.

But of course, because the universe hates Doyoung, he’d been given the chance to debut (which, yeah, good for Jungwoo, but holy shit, is it bad for Doyoung’s fragile heart). And now Doyoung has to see him every fucking day in all his beautiful soft sweet glory.

Doyoung examines himself in the mirror above the bathroom sink. His face is still unnaturally flushed, pupils dilated when he studies them closely. He washes his face off with the coldest water the building gets, praying that he can just be normal for once in his life and not embarrass himself.

The door swings open behind him, and Doyoung’s so preoccupied washing his face that he nearly jumps out of his skin when Jungwoo’s soft voice says, “Hyung, are you okay?”

Doyoung spins on his heels, hands coming up in defense, and Jungwoo laughs a little uneasily (in Doyoung’s mind, he can practically _feel_ the sentiment behind the laugh; _what a weirdo_ ).

Jungwoo walks forward, and Doyoung lets his hands drop lamely at his sides. “Oh,” he says with as much feigned calm as he can, “It’s just you.”

 _Just you_. What an understatement. Doyoung would fall to his knees in an instant if Jungwoo said the words. He’d lay at Jungwoo’s feet, take of Jungwoo’s shoes with his mouth if asked, he’d- _okay_ , he decides at once, _too weird_.

Jungwoo just smiles, hands in the pockets of his hoody. “You know, my birthday _is_ coming up soon. And you promised me anything.”

Oh. There it is again. The heart attack feeling.

“Don’t tell me you were _lying,_ ” Jungwoo teases, and steps forward into Doyoung’s space. He automatically takes a step back, winds up with his hip pressed against the sink, and curses himself for not thinking this through.

“Hyung,” Jungwoo says, smile already fixed on his mouth, “I told you what I want, didn’t I?”

Doyoung swallows hard. “A-a house?” he says weakly. God, he’s an idiot.

“Your love?” Jungwoo prompts, and Doyoung might as well turn to stone. “But I guess I’ll take a kiss, if not that.”

“Oh,” Doyoung says rather dumbly. “That.”

Half of him is ready to bolt at a second’s notice, but the other half can’t stop staring at Jungwoo’s full upper lip, wondering if it tastes as good as it looks.

Jungwoo’s hand comes to rest over his heart, and Doyoung hopes he can’t feel how erratically it’s beating. “Can I have a kiss?” Jungwoo says, and on anyone else, it would sound greasy and Doyoung would shove them off while laughing, but Jungwoo says it with a sincere sweetness that makes Doyoung’s insides clench.

Doyoung’s hands are trembling slightly when he curls them over Jungwoo’s shoulders and pulls him closer, taking a second to rake his eyes over the other boy’s face, looking for any signs of jest. No, Jungwoo’s completely serious, and Doyoung’s completely whipped.

Carefully, slowly, Doyoung leans forward and presses their lips together, a shaky breath escaping past his lips when they part to lick into Jungwoo’s mouth.

This, at least, he knows how to do without looking like an absolute idiot. His hands come to curl into the back of Jungwoo’s hoody, holding him tighter, and Jungwoo hums, his fingers threading through Doyoung’s hair.

When they finally part, Doyoung’s sure that he’s never going to be able to look Jungwoo in the face again without thinking about kissing him for the rest of his life.

Jungwoo huffs out a slightly embarrassed laugh, and Doyoung realizes he must have let this little revelation slip past his mouth.

“Wow,” a new voice interrupts, “that was intense. Did that count for his birthday present?”

Mark is standing in the doorway of the bathroom, and Doyoung wants to bury him six feet in the ground.

Only, Jungwoo smiles at him (with teeth! How dare he have the nerve to be so! Damn! Cute!) and Doyoung feels his violent tendencies calm themselves at once. Mark is still grinning, a million demonic things probably at the tip of his tongue. Doyoung regrets becoming an idol and becoming an NCT member and kind of his entire life.

“Your birthday isn’t until August, so don’t even think about it.”

**Author's Note:**

> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/_johnten) come cry with me about soft jungwoo


End file.
